Racing Heroes – Gilles Villeneuve

Gilles Villeneuve (in knit cap) awaits the start of the 1978 Canadian Grand Prix. Photos courtesy the Archives de la Ville de Montreal.

In the history of Formula 1, few drivers are quite as polarizing as Canadian star Gilles Villeneuve. Nikki Lauda reportedly called him, “the craziest devil I ever came across in Formula 1,” and BBC F1 analyst Eddie Jordan is on record as saying that Villeneuve was “a hooligan who never would have won a championship,” punctuating this with, “He drove like an idiot.” On the other hand, former Ferrari teammate Jody Scheckter called him, “the fastest driver the world has ever seen,” while Alain Prost referred to Villeneuve as, “the last great driver – the rest of us are a bunch of good professionals.”

As is often the case, the truth about Gilles Villeneuve lies somewhere among these extremes. Born in January of 1950 in Saint-Jean-sur-Richelieu, Quebec, Canada, it was clear from an early age that he’d pursue a career in motorsports. At age 15, his father, a piano tuner by trade, gave Villeneuve his first car, a decrepit 1958 MGA. With no formal training, the teen stripped and rebuilt the car, but it wouldn’t last long – the MGA was just one in a series of cars that Villeneuve crashed before graduating high school. He dabbled in drag racing behind the wheel of his 1967 Ford Mustang, but soon learned that his passion was for road courses, not drag strips.

To earn the money needed to attend the Jim Russell Racing School at Le Circuit Mont Tremblant, Villeneuve worked construction and turned to racing snowmobiles in the winter months. He excelled at piloting sleds, and later credited his snowmobile racing days with teaching him skid control and how to race in inclement weather. Into his mid-20s, even while racing cars in the warmer months, Villeneuve derived the bulk of his income from racing snowmobiles, and his earnings rose significantly after winning the 1974 World Championship Snowmobile Derby.

Villeneuve piloting the Ferrari 312T3 in Montreal, 1978.

Still, his real passion lay in racing cars, particularly single-seat, open wheel formula cars. Upon his graduation from the Jim Russell school, Villeneuve bought a two-year old Formula Ford and clinched the provincial championship in his first season. Next came a stint driving Formula Atlantic cars for Ecurie Canada, which ended after the driver broke his leg in a crash at Mosport Park in 1974. On his own with little funding, Villeneuve bought his own car and started his own team.

Despite limited funding and equipment that few would deem competitive, Villeneuve finished fifth in the Formula Atlantic championship in 1975. That was enough to earn him a full-time ride with Ecurie Canada for the 1976 season, and his performance in the series was impressive: Villeneuve won all but one of the series’s races that season, earning both the U.S. and Canadian title. At a Formula Atlantic race at Trois-Rivieres, Villeneuve even bested Formula 1 driver James Hunt (who would go on to clinch the F1 world championship later that year). Hunt lobbied for the young Canadian at McLaren, and Villeneuve was signed to a limited-race deal for the 1977 F1 season.

Though Villeneuve’s contract at McLaren specified “up to” five races, he would take the wheel for just one. At the British Grand Prix, Villeneuve would qualify ninth (better than teammate Jochen Mass, in a newer McLaren chassis) and finish the race in 11th. Despite his heroic qualifying effort, McLaren officials advised Villeneuve they would not sign him for the 1978 season. In August, Villeneuve tested for Ferrari, and despite a positively mediocre performance, was signed on the spot as he reminded Enzo Ferrari of the great Tazio Nuvolari (both were small and reportedly filled with energy). Villeneuve would race the final two events of the 1977 season for Ferrari before joining the team full- time in 1978.

Gilles Villeneuve celebrates his first F1 victory, at the 1978 Canadian Grand Prix.

At the 1977 Canadian Grand Prix, he’d start in 17th position before transmission failure (caused by an oil-slick induced spin) would end his day early, but with a 12th-place finish. Japan, the last race of the 1977 season, would end in tragedy: After hitting Ronnie Petersen’s Tyrell early in the race, Villeneuve’s McLaren became airborne, striking and killing a corner marshal and a photographer.

In 1978, Villeneuve would show signs of brilliance (fastest lap in Argentina, a podium finish in Germany and a win at the Canadian Grand Prix), but his performance would be hampered by a string of DNFs. Out of 16 races, the Canadian would see retirements in six events, yet still manage to end the season ninth in points. Italian media was hyper-critical of his performance, but Scuderia Ferrari stood by its choice of driver. The team would be rewarded for this in 1979, as Jody Scheckter and Gilles Villeneuve would finish first and second in the championship standings, with six wins and seven additional podium finishes between them. The effort easily won the constructor’s championship for Ferrari, but the season was also notable for Villeneuve’s heroic battle with Rene Arnoux at the French Grand Prix.

Battling for second position in the closing laps of the race, Arnoux passed Villeneuve with just three laps remaining. The following lap, Villeneuve would overtake Arnoux to reclaim the position, locking his brakes in a cloud of bravado-induced tire smoke. The battle between Villeneuve and Arnoux on the last lap of the race is, without a doubt, among the finest racing duels ever caught on film; with neither driver willing to concede the position, the pair bump wheels repeatedly (ill-advised in an open wheel race car) and even head into several corners side by side. In the end, it was Villeneuve that prevailed, claiming his third podium finish of the season.

Villeneuve was a master of driving in the rain, perhaps a throwback to his snowmobile racing days where only the lead sled driver enjoys the luxury of good visibility. At the 1979 U.S. Grand Prix East, in Watkins Glen, New York, conditions in practice were abysmal. After Jody Scheckter came in from a particularly terrifying lap that he felt was surely the fastest of the session, he was disheartened to learn that his teammate, Villeneuve, had beaten his time by 10 seconds in the same conditions. At Monaco in 1980, a late shower slowed the field significantly, prompting many drivers to pit for rain tires. Villeneuve pressed on with his mounted dry tires, lapping five seconds per lap faster than anyone else in the field.

The 1980 season was a disappointment for both Villeneuve and Ferrari, with the Canadian finishing no higher than fifth in the season. As in 1978, the Ferrari team would be hampered by a string of DNFs, with Villeneuve failing to finish six of the season’s 14 races. Scheckter fared no better, racking up four DNFs and failing to qualify for the Canadian Grand Prix. In what could best be described as a “rebuilding year,” Villeneuve finished 14th in points, with his teammate ending the season in 19th position.

Though the Ferrari 126C proved to powerful enough with its turbocharged V-6, its handling and reliability still left much to be desired. Following retirements in the first three events of the season, Villeneuve posted a pair of top 10 finishes, followed by wins in Monaco and Spain. Famed F1 and road car designer Gordon Murray called Villeneuve’s win at the Spanish Grand Prix “the best drive he had ever seen.” Despite this mid-season performance, Villeneuve would fail to finish five of the season’s remaining eight races, and would be disqualified from the season-ending Caesar’s Palace Grand Prix for lining up on the grid improperly.

Villeneuve in the Ferrari 312T3.

In a 1982 season rife with politics, Villeneuve opened the season with DNFs in South Africa and Brazil. A protest over the Ferrari’s staggered rear wing resulted in a disqualification for Villeneuve at the United States Grand Prix West (after a third-place finish), but the situation improved at the San Marino Grand Prix, where Villeneuve finished second. Under ordinary circumstances, this would have been a satisfactory result for the Canadian, but confusing team orders (prompted by a request to conserve fuel) allowed Villeneuve’s teammate, Didier Pironi, to pass him for the win. Villeneuve interpreted the team orders to mean “hold position,” while Peroni claimed that such instruction was not expressly stated. As a result of the feud, Villeneuve swore that he’d never speak to his young Ferrari teammate again.

Tragically, Villeneuve’s proclamation turned out to be correct. During the last qualifying session for the following race, the Belgian Grand Prix, Villeneuve topped a rise to find the March of Jochen Mass traveling far below a qualifying pace. Seeing the Ferrari in his mirrors, Mass pulled right, but Villeneuve had the same idea; the two cars collided, launching Villeneuve’s Ferrari skyward. The car, still traveling at a substantial rate of speed, disintegrated upon impact, leaving the Canadian driver with a broken neck. Later that evening, Gilles Villeneuve was pronounced dead.

While Gilles Villeneuve would never achieve the F1 championship he so desired, his son, Jacques Villeneuve would claim the title in 1997. Today, the former Ile Notre-Dame Circuit in Montreal, Quebec, Canada, is named for the province’s motorsport hero, and a bronze bust of Gilles Villeneuve greets visitors to Ferrari’s Fiorano test track. Corners and chicanes at tracks throughout the world are named for the driver, meaning that he ultimately achieved the kind of fame that even a Formula 1 world championship would fail to deliver.

Madocsays:

August 20, 2013 8:18 am

The first photo in the post really takes you back. Notice that Villeneuve doesn’t have a single sponsor logo anywhere on him. He is wearing street clothes that certainly don’t make him stand out in a crowd as an F1 superstar.

Contrast that to today’s drivers with sponsors names covering any area that may be caught by a camera.

Kurt Ernstsays:

August 20, 2013 8:48 am

Richard Lentinellosays:

August 20, 2013 9:28 am

Gilles was a master, especially in the rain. I saw him at the U.S. Grand Prix at Watkins Glen in 1978, ’79, ’80 and found him to be the most aggressive, fearless and entertaining driver of them all. Watching Gilles handle his car in the heavy rain – right in front of us at the downhill left hand turn in the back of the course – was unbelievable. I don’t believe he knew how to use the brakes. That day it was only Gilles and Mario who passed everyone on the outside wet line. Fantastico!

Steve Psays:

August 20, 2013 9:30 pm

While not real common in the USA, the Capri could be made into a very competitive road racer. I remember a guy racing one in the mid to late 80’s at SCCA races in the Midwest. He was unbeatable. I think he moved on to NASCAR or CART.